


this is the end (beautiful friend).

by boykingofhell (alloftimeandspace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 15, Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, How Supernatural (TV) Could End, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Season Finale, Season/Series 15, Self-Indulgent, Spoilers, don't like it? rewrite it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alloftimeandspace/pseuds/boykingofhell
Summary: le fin.or, how the series should end.
Kudos: 2





	this is the end (beautiful friend).

**Author's Note:**

> _This is the end, beautiful friend  
>  This is the end, my only friend  
> The end of our elaborate plans  
> The end of ev'rything that stands  
> The end_

Jack was in The Garden again, following the unnamed little girl in white as she padded soundlessly between the trees. Soul in tact, he was aware this time of its wild beauty, almost too perfect to be real. The vibrance here placed next to the things he'd seen on Earth would have rendered them dull and lifeless, even the beautiful sunsets he'd gotten to witness, or the loveliness of the wildflowers that he'd watched bloom for the first time that spring. The girl stopped at a clearing, turned to face him with an earnest expression drawn across her childish face, though her eyes seemed much older. She began to speak to him, and was interrupted by the sudden, startling appearance of God himself, in Chuck's form, eyes flashing wild with a vivid threat. "Jack, the story is over. The Winchester's can't keep running. I am coming for you all, to end the story, my way."

Breath heaving, an unfamiliar sensative, Jack startled into consciousness. The dream propelled him out of be with a sense of urgency, knowing innately that it was not, truly, just a dream. He stumbled to a halt in front of Sam's bedroom door and knocked frantically, heard Sam's gentle "come in", and pushed open the door to find him stretched across his bed with a book, mildly at peace just for the moment. "Sam. I had a dream, but it wasn't a dream. It's God. He's coming, he knows where we are."

"What?" Sam dropped the book on the bed. "Tell me about the dream. Are you sure?"

"I could-can...feel it. I just know."

"Okay. Okay. What did he say?"

Jack recounted the dream as accurately, and as quickly as he could. When he finished, Sam looked at him gravely. "Go tell Dean. I'm going to try to call Cas." Jack nodded and practically ran for Dean, and Sam closed the bedroom door behind him, collapsing with his back against the sturdy wood, eyes lifted upwards to the blank ceiling. "Cas..." His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, tried again. "Cas. I know...I know things have been strained lately. Jack, he...we think God is coming. We think he's found us. Cas...I don't know if we're going to make it out of this. I don't know if you can help us. But I want you with us. I know that's a big favor to ask, but, if you're willing. We miss you. I miss you. Dean misses you. Jack, too."

He waited in the silence, eyes closed against the stillness. A rustle from the corner of the room drew him back, Cas appearing as suddenly as he always did. "Sam."

Sam sighed in as much relief as he could muster. "Cas. I'm so glad to see you."

Cas walked to face him, sincerity in his face. "Sam-I do not think we have any choice. We must fight."

"How?" 

"There is a spell. Older than the Earth. It's our last hope. That's where I've been - looking."

Sam's heart sank, as the world seemed to shrink. "Do you think we can?"

"I'm not sure."

"Cas...thank you for coming."

"I would not be anywhere else."

They emerged from the bedroom, taking the plan to Dean and Jack in the library, preparing the spell without much hope, or much conversation. The quiet drowned the room, Cas laid out the spell. "How can it be so simple?" The earnest curiosity on Jack's face was endearing, but no one really had an answer. "Castiel, where did you get the spell?" 

Cas murmured, "Heaven," lowly, turning his back to the table as he ground a spring of rosemary between his fingers, in the the silver bowl in front of him. Jack started to question him further, cut short by a thunderclap, a hideous shriek of metal being torn from metal, the bunker door blown from its hinges, the furious footsteps of God quaking on the first ledge of the stairs. "So! I've taken care of the rest of my worlds. It's time to end your story. Sam and Dean, loyal Castiel, naive Jack. 

Jack understood. There was no spell. It had been for his sake, or for their sake, to pretend. They had run out of options.

"At least we'll die fighting, you heartless bastard," Dean growled, fighting stance set rigid, between his brother and his angel, Jack pushed behind him to keep him as safe as they could, in any circumstances. 

"Die? Who said anything about dying? The story is at an end, Dean."

"Yeah? What the fuck does that mean?"

A voice appeared from behind God, a voice Dean would never have thought he'd find welcoming. "What my brother means, is that he plans to try again. Hello, brother."

"What are you doing here, _sister_?"

"I'm here to stop you."

Amara produced a scythe, Death's scythe, from behind her back; in a flash of movement, she had God pinned against the stairs, the scythe to his neck. "Do you really think this will work, sister?

She laughed, a wild, raging sound that echoed through the open hall, as Sam and Dean and Cas and Jack stared, frozen. "Let's find out."

The scythe slipped forward. A flash, and then nothing.

\-----

Sam jerked awake in his Stanford apartment, Jess rousing beside him, sleepily murmering, "What is it honey?" as she stretched, cat-like, to wakefulness. Breathless, Sam gathered his bearings, looking around greatfully at their modest home, never loving more the sight of the mess on his desk or the sight of Jess's Halloween costume slung over the chair. 

"It's...nothing. I'm great, actually." He paused. "I need to call my brother. And Jess?" 

"Hmm?" She still wasn't fully awake, but curled sweetly into his side, warm beneath the sheets lit with the faint glow from the slice of light in the curtains. 

"Let's get out of town for a few days. My treat."

Jess smiled sleepily. "Sure, honey. Let's sleep now, okay?" Her eyes fell closed, eyelashes soft against her cheeks as she settled dreamily back into restfulness, but Sam stayed awake, long enough to see the sun dawn over their corner of the world, watching the steady up-and-down cadence of Jess's breathing with a full heart and finally, a sense of peace. Before he let himself sleep, he reached for his phone and scrolled through the few names listed for Dean's contact. He typed out a text, sent it, and allowed himself to sink to a dreamless sleep, content next to the love of his life. 

"hey man, can we talk? miss you."

_le fin._

**Author's Note:**

> find me and request at brighteyesandblacklights.tumblr.com


End file.
